


safe harbors

by leavesinthestream



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:02:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28742202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leavesinthestream/pseuds/leavesinthestream
Summary: Sometimes Isabela feels like she’s been running breakneck her entire life.
Relationships: Isabela/Merrill (Dragon Age)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	safe harbors

Sometimes Isabela feels like she’s been running breakneck her entire life.

It’s not all bad. She likes stormy seas and busy taverns; the hustle and bustle of Antiva City and Llomerryn and Estwatch suited her just fine. Even Amaranthine, with its colder Fereldan weather, had a good energy to it. Kirkwall was its own kind of beast. Felt sometimes like the city was a thing alive, breathing at night, moving and shifting when no one was looking. Isabela fought some of the hardest fights of her life there, the kinds that go on and on. So many near misses and narrow escapes.

But she’s Captain Isabela. She never backs down from a challenge.

After the Arishok’s duel, she briefly reconsiders.

She’s stunned by Hawke fighting for her. Refusing to give her up, or betray her, or anything she’d been expecting. “You’re my friend,” Hawke had said, and smiled, like that just...answered everything.

Hawke was fine, now. Nearly healed from the grievous scar. But Isabela felt like she was still about to collapse.

She wound up in the alienage one night. Not really a strange occurrence, sometimes the stench and crowd of the Hanged Man got annoying, and Merrill always had plenty of people over, elven neighbors chatting or eating supper or doing some work for the next day. That night when Isabela rapped on the door, only Merrill answered it. She was selfishly a bit relieved. She didn’t really want the company of strangers.

“Oh, Isabela!” Merrill said, and pulled her inside into a squeezing hug. “I’m so glad you came by. I haven’t seen you since Hawke...”

“I thought I’d give you some air,” Isabela replied lightly. Merrill of course didn’t take the bait.

“I’m always happy to see you,” she said instead, into Isabela’s hair. “You know that, right?”

“Sweet as honey, Kitten. Thank you.”

Merrill was dressed clearly for bed, wrapped in a soft leaf-green robe and her feet in nug-shaped socks that Varric had got her last year at Satinalia. But she took Isabela by the hand and led her over to the fire. There were two sitting chairs there. Merrill sat back down in the one she’d obviously risen from to answer the door, and when Isabela wobbled on her feet for a moment from sheer exhaustion, Merrill murmured worriedly and pulled her into her lap.

She was wiry strong and comfortingly warm, and she always smelled of wildflowers. With her robe on, her arms were soft and gentle. She wrapped them around Isabela and scooched around until Isabela’s head was against her chest, tucked safely beneath her chin, and Isabela curled up in her lap with Merrill holding her, and finally let herself relax.

It felt like she hadn’t done that in years. Her shoulders shuddered before they slumped, and all her bones seemed to groan in protest. But it felt good. So, so good. She breathed in Merrill’s wildflower smell, the smoky elfroot and potion-making scent of her home, and her mind quieted itself at last. Merrill rocked her a little and pressed kisses to the top of her head, and hummed something lilting and sweet under her breath. Isabela could close her eyes so easily...she forced one back open. “Do you ever feel...adrift?”

“Sounds like a pirate’s problem,” Merrill teased.

“Ha, ha. I mean...”

“I know.” One of her hands began to rub over Isabela’s back in firm, soothing strokes. Some of the knots, old and hard, began to dissolve beneath her fingers. “I have. I mean, I do. I thought at first it was because I’d never left my clan before. Then I thought it happened when Mahariel and Tamlen...left. But I think I’ve always felt sort of...lost. Or out of place. Like I’m stumbling around in a dark forest, and everyone else knows the way to go. Like I’ll never be free of it.”

“I feel like I’ve been running,” Isabela murmured into Merrill’s arms, after a moment, so low that Merrill ducked her head against Isabela’s forehead to hear her. “My whole life. From my mother, or my past, or...I don’t know what. Myself. I’m so tired of running, Kitten. I’m just...so tired.”

“I’m sure you’ve not slept well for a long time,” Merrill said, in the voice of someone who knew, and understood. “But you can sleep here whenever you want. You know that, don’t you? I’ve been so worried about you for...for a while.”

“You’re too kind,” Isabela started to say.

“Oh, nothing of the sort. You always look out for me, elgara. I like to take care of you, too.”

“Mm.” She didn’t even have the energy to protest, and she wasn’t sure, anymore, why she should. It was so good to finally get off her feet. No hidden daggers here, or double-crosses, or poisoned goblets. Merrill loved her. No matter what came- storms or fair weather, the doom of Kirkwall or its survival, the wicked caprices of the world- Merrill would always love her. Merrill would always want to protect her and take care of her. She knew that suddenly as surely as she knew the stars.

“Elgara?” she mumbled sleepily. “What’s that, darling?”

“Sunshine,” Merrill murmured, and kissed her head again, then bent to kiss her nose and cheeks and chin, and the soft curve of her mouth. “Warms all the world, brings life and color back when everything seems grey and hopeless and bleak. Beautiful in every weather. Dazzling when it turns to you, in all its radiant delight. Power and healing and joy in one.”

She nestled closer to Merrill and felt her arms tighten in reply. “Oh, Merrill.”

“Ar lath ma, Isabela.” One last kiss to her temple. “You can rest safely here.”


End file.
